


First and Foremost

by Geishaaa



Series: Mother figure [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Mother-Son Relationship, Skate family, yuri's mother is not nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 04:05:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11524191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geishaaa/pseuds/Geishaaa
Summary: “Yuri, come here,” Yakov called as the boy huffed and turned towards them.Lilia inhaled sharply as intense green eyes locked with hers and long blond strands framed a sharp face. It occurred to her then that she had not been told the boy’s surname, but it no longer mattered because she already knew it.“This is Yuri Plisetsky,” Yakov’s spoke but Lilia was no longer listening.Yuri Plisetsky, son of Valentina Plisetsky – adored soap actress and model, ‘Russia’s Sweetheart’, and – of course – Lilia’s least favourite person in the world.





	First and Foremost

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I have aged down Lilia and Yakov quiet a bit. In the canon, they're about 70 but in this story they are closer to 50 because Lilia needed to be the same age as Yuri's mother (who Im sure didn't have Yuri at 55 xD)
> 
> And YAAY for my first Yuri on Ice fic!

Lilia Baranovskaya was, first and foremost, a ballerina.

She had danced as the principal ballerina in the Bolshoi Ballet for almost a decade. She’d choreographed and directed the company for two decades following her retirement from the top spot in the ensemble, and finally, just six months ago, she’d made her final retirement from the world of ballet.

At age 49, her career had had a good run, better than most in fact as she had been very fortunate to avoid serious injury during her principal years. Lilia had known how to truly care for her body, to make it last as long as possible. These days, she was sure she could still dance en pointe if required, although it was something she wasn’t going to attempt just to see if she could do it.

Retirement was suiting her very well, she’d decided, finally finding the time to read and relax. She’d even taken up knitting…

Okay, well, in actual fact, Lilia found retirement to be incredibly dull and insanely boring. She was becoming restless in her need to get back to the dance studio, so when her ex-husband and former figure skating champion, Yakov Feltsman, contacted her with an offer to join him as a choreographer and ballet coach to his three senior skaters, Lilia had jumped at the opportunity, although with much feigned reluctance, of course.

“If I don’t like what I see, I will go straight home,” she told Yakov over the phone.

“They all have good teeth,” Yakov added quickly, “I know that it’s important to you.”

“Hmmm,” Lilia agreed; her own mentor had once told her ‘a good smile is the most fundamental element of beauty’.

She had hung up the phone without even the smallest hint of a goodbye and leant back into her armchair. A slight smile grazed her lips; she was rather excited to meet her new students, but Yakov certainly didn’t need to know that.

Of course, she hadn’t then known who she’d be training, and she had certainly never imagined that one of her new pupils would be her long-time enemy’s son.

 

 

Her first day as Team Russia’s new choreographer started well. She arrived at the rink early to discuss logistics with Yakov. Since his champion skater, Victor Nikiforov, was taking the year off to coach a Japanese skater, Yakov’s senior skaters are Mila, Georgi and Yuri. Mila and Georgi train throughout the day where they do half a day skating and half a day ballet and choreography each.

“What about this ‘Yuri’?” Lilia asked, remembering a third skater Yakov had mentioned.

“Yuri is only fifteen so he is at school during the day,” Yakov grunted, like he was certain school was a waste of time next to ice skating, “He trains with me early in the morning before classes as well as all day Saturday, after school he will do ballet and choreography with you, starting at 4pm.”

Lilia quickly pencilled that into her new schedule; Georgi 9am-12pm, Mila 12.30pm-3.30pm, Yuri 4pm-7pm.

It would be a long day, but she had her weekends to herself and all the training was one on one, which she had long preferred over teaching whole classes –it’s better to see results. She found the day was remarkably longer for this fifteen year old boy she would now be teaching as Yakov continues to prattle on about his own schedule. Yakov and Yuri arrive at the rink at 6am and train until 8.30am when the teenager slips off to school and returns again in the afternoon, where he will then do ballet until dinner time; thirteen hours a day this boy is training, travelling and learning. He also does Saturday’s 9am-2pm with Yakov.

“Yuri must be very dedicated,” Lilia murmured to herself, tracing the boy’s name on the paper with her fingertip.

“He is,” Yakov responded, “A sharp tongue and bad attitude, but very dedicated.”

Lilia couldn’t help but feel very intrigued to meet this new student of hers.

 

 

The day went well enough in the beginning.

Georgi was a good student. His ballet would need a bit of work, especially his flexibility, but his expressionism and theatricality was unparalleled when conveying the heartbreak of his free skate story. Lilia quickly realised that he was drawing from real experience and made the fatal error of asking what happened in his previous relationship. Droning and blubbering aside, Lilia knew she could draw a beautiful performance out of the man if she continued to play towards his strength in expressing his rather sad theme.

Mila was a beautiful dancer; flexible, strong, graceful. Lilia had to fight the urge to get her in pointe shoes to show off those stunning leg lines... however pointe is irrelevant to skating as Yakov had reminded her on several occasions over the years. Mila had one major problem, though; laziness. No, more like disinterest. Mila wanted to be hitting the gym, practicing lifts (as in practicing being the lifter not the liftee), and when Lilia finally got her into the rhythm of ballet, Mila preferred to take on a male dancer role, much to Lilia’s chagrin; she only got one girl to work with and that girl wanted to dance like a boy.

Finally 4pm hit and Lilia had one session to go.

“Yuri is waiting in the studio,” Yakov held out his arm for her to take, which Lilia pointedly ignored, “I’ll introduce you.”

They walked down the hallway to the ballet studio behind the rink. Yakov took the time to warn her about his youngest skater’s potty mouth and ‘punk’ attitude.

They entered the mirror-lined studio as a blond haired boy stretched in the centre of the room.

“Yuri, come here,” Yakov called as the boy huffed and turned towards them.

Lilia inhaled sharply as intense green eyes locked with hers and long blond strands framed a sharp face. It occurred to her then that she had not been told the boy’s surname, but it didn’t matter because she already knew it.

“This is Yuri Plisetsky,” Yakov’s spoke but Lilia was no longer listening.

_Yuri Plisetsky, son of Valentina Plisetsky._

Lilia’s breath was caught in her throat while her mind reeled as she stared at the grumpy fifteen year old.

Valentina Plisetsky’s son _. Th_ e Valentina Plisetsky – adored soap actress and model, ‘Russia’s Sweetheart’, and – of course – Lilia’s least favourite person in the world.

‘Least favourite’ is the polite way to put it, but in truth, Lilia _hated_ that woman with a passion, and a bitter taste began to form in her mouth as she stared down at the product of her enemy; Valentina’s teenage son.

He had unfamiliar eyes, but otherwise this boy was almost the spitting image of his mother at the same age. Yuri stared at her expectantly and Lilia didn’t miss the warning glare Yakov shot at the teen when Yuri’s frown dipped and his mouth opened to speak.

The silence carried on as Lilia stared. She noticed Yakov’s anxious glance in her direction and decided to take a better look at her new student, walking around him and scrutinising every aspect of his body, her cane clicking ominously against the hard floors.

“Weak ankles,” Lilia noted aloud as she continued to circle, “Thighs need toning, little to no upper body strength-“

“What the fu-“

“Yuri!” Yakov cut the boy off as anger flared out of the teen.

“Who is this hag, Yakov?” the teen spat and quickly earnt himself a smack on the calf with Lilia’s cane before she could stop herself.

“You are very lucky to have me, Boy,” Lilia sneered, ignoring the boy’s gasp of shock and pain, “I will not tolerate any foul language or misbehaviour in my studio. There is a lot of work to be done on you, Child, and you will give your body and soul over to me if you even expect to place at the Grand Prix.”

Lilia had always been a stern woman and a strict teacher but even she knew she had been too harsh on the boy. His body was actually in top condition for his age; she hadn’t been lying about the ankles – they would need to be strengthened but the thighs had been an outright lie and the upper body strength was not something she intended to work with him on as his pre-pubescent body would neither need it nor want it.

Both Yakov and the boy were speechless, staring at her like she was mad… and maybe she was.

“Finish your stretches,” she snapped at the young skater before grabbing Yakov’s arm and leading him towards the door.

Lilia could feel the heat of Yakov’s face from a foot away.

“I’m not saying go easy on him, but gods Lilia, he is only fifteen,” Yakov reprimanded her quietly, “Yuri needs a firm hand but he also needs support, not to be put down before you’ve even seen him dance.”

“You didn’t tell me he was _her_ child,” Lilia hissed, glancing over her shoulder to ensure the boy couldn’t hear her.

“You didn’t ask,” Yakov grumbled, although he did look a little sheepish, “Besides, Valentina isn’t really involved in Yuri’s skating; Yuri’s grandfather is usually the only one to visit the rink and come to competitions.”

“Another Plisetsky?” Lilia raised a doubtful eyebrow, “That does not assure me in any way”

“Look, Lilia,” Yakov lowered his voice even more, “I know you have history with Valentina, but Yuri is a good kid. He’s been raised by his grandfather and once you get past the teenage attitude, you’ll find Yuri is actually rather sweet.”

Lilia scoffed; Valentina Plisetsky’s child was sweet?

_Unlikely._

 

 

“Again!” Lilia shouted as Yuri fell out of another sloppy pirouette.

Yakov had told her that Yuri was very good at ballet for someone who wasn’t even a dancer at all but a figure skater and he’d been correct, but the teen’s pirouettes had been a problem from day one and only seemed to get sloppier with each repetition. Lilia had also promised herself to give the teenager a chance and not judge him based on his parentage, but every time Lilia looked at the boy, she saw Valentina.

The hair, the stature, every rude obscenity that flew from his mouth – although he hadn’t been rude since his first meeting with her but the message was clear in his angry green eyes. She assumed the eyes came from the father – whoever that was –but Lilia felt confident that any man that could impregnate Valentina had to be as bad as she was, or perhaps clinically insane.

It had been three weeks since Lilia had started teaching ballet to Yakov’s skaters and so far she’d managed to choreograph Mila and Georgi’s whole program but she was struggling with Yuri’s. The boy had Victor Nikiforov’s agape short program to practise with for the time being but Yakov was hounding her to finish his free skate. Lilia was, for the most part, uninspired; Yuri’s theme for the season was ‘strength’ but Lilia just couldn’t find it in her to choreograph ‘strength’ for the son of Valentina Plisetsky.

She was weak, and therefore her son was too… _probably._

“I need a break,” Yuri hunched over, supporting himself with hands on his knees, sweat dripping from his body and chest heaving desperately for oxygen.

“You will get a break when you deserve one,” Lilia snarled, although even she knows she’s pushed this boy beyond his limit already, “Again!”

Yuri fell out of another pirouette and almost stumbled over as he blindly tried to catch himself.

“Ugly,” Lilia stated dryly like she was bored and stared unimpressed at the young dancer who could barely stand up now, “Pathetic. Again!”

“I can’t,” Yuri gasped, holding his side as his whole chest heaved, “We’ve been at this for hours. I just need five minutes-”

“Not until you can do a decent pirouette,” Lilia didn’t back down.

In the back of her mind, alarm bells were ringing at the state of the child’s body and she knew she should stop and let the boy take a break, but overriding the warnings was Valentina’s taunting voice.

_“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”_

 

 

_Lilia screamed as a sharp pain shot through her head. She was being hauled out of her seat by her hair._

_“Stop!” Lilia yelled, tears prickling in the corners of her eyes, “Valentina, stop!”_

_Long blonde hair wrapped around the white blouse and dark grey skirt of their matching school uniforms were the only visuals Lilia’s blurry vision could register, but she could hear laughter around her and boys chanting ‘girl fight, girl fight, girl fight’._

_“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” Valentina’s rage-filled voice spat as she pulled harder on Lilia’s hair._

 

“Why do you hate me?” Yuri asked between pants, “Why are you doing this?”

Lilia was ripped from her memories only to be plunged back in.

 

 

_“Why do you hate me?” Lilia sobbed from where she had fallen on the concrete of their school’s cafeteria floor, her palms and knees skinned and a little bloody, “Why are you doing this, Valentina?”_

 

 

The roles were reversed and Lilia finally felt like she was getting her revenge on her once best friend.

“Because you are just like her,” Lilia hissed down at Yuri, seeing only Valentina, “Arrogant, rude, weak, unable to comprehend that someone else might be more talented than you.”

“Who?” Yuri asked, clearly confused.

“VALENTINA!” Lilia screamed automatically in unadulterated rage and frustration.

Silence followed as Lilia’s reeling mind caught up with all the memories and pain that had just burst out of her like projectile vomit. She almost felt ill after reliving that but at the same time, it felt like a weight had been lifted of her chest, to finally have vented her pre-teen anger.

The weight had not gone far though, Lilia realised as she remembered that she wasn’t alone. Yuri’s face was furious, and his eyes – which Lilia now noticed were rather pretty since they were not his mother’s – were conveying barely concealed hurt.

Lilia searched the irises but they quickly went hard and the boy turned away from her; Yuri may not have known the context behind Lilia’s fury but he did know that she had just bad mouthed his mother.

“Russia is split into two groups of people,” Yuri’s voice had a sharp edge as he stares at his refection in the large studio mirrors, “People who have only ever seen my mother on television and think she’s the most wonderful person on Earth… and people who have actually met her and know that isn’t true at all.”

Yuri straightened back up and he repositioned for another pirouette despite the fact his whole body was shaking from exhaustion.

“I am nothing like my mother,” Yuri’s words were venom.

Yuri began to turn and Lilia saw it for the first time; _strength_. Green eyes were ablaze with fury, muscles contorting as they were tensed and blond hair whipping ferociously with the spin. He completed the pirouette and while it was far from perfect, it was the best he had done all night. Lilia was still speechless as Yuri repositioned again, pushing his body through another pirouette, and another, and another, until Lilia had lost count.

“Yuri,” Lilia called, seeing the way the boy’s body was being pushed further beyond its limit, “Take a break.”

“Not until I do a decent pirouette.”

Her words had sounded so bitter coming from his mouth.

Lilia watched in concern as Yuri threw himself into another turn. Before he even pushed off, Lilia recognised the signs of an exhausted body shutting down. She knew he wasn’t going to make it out of this turn uninjured. Quickly, Lilia reached forward and caught the teen’s lean forearm as he began to fall out of it, and pulled the lithe body back against her chest as before it could helplessly crash to the floor.

Yuri’s body was completely limp by the time Lilia had lowered him to the floor and in spite of herself, the once prima ballerina cursed loudly. The blond’s eyes were closed and it was clear that he had blacked out, his whole body succumbing to the exhaustion she had forced on him. Crossing the room, Lilia grabbed Yuri’s water bottle from beside his bag and returned to the unconscious boy. She poured some of the water onto the teen’s face and Yuri instantly spluttered into awareness, allowing the ballerina a breath of relief.

A pained groan escaped Yuri’s lips as he came to, his brow dipping into a confused frown. Lilia grimaced before carefully helping the teenager into a sitting position against the back wall. The blond slumped tiredly against it and Lilia pushed the water bottle into his hand, coaxing him to drink.

“Drink, Yuri,” Lilia murmured quietly and brushed a stray strand of hair away from the boy’s face so she could see him better.

She felt guilty and rightfully so. She had sworn she’d never be one of those teachers, the ones that push their students to injury. When she’d started teaching ballet, she’d promised herself she’d be stern but fair, and she’d do what was right by her students to ensure their bodies would last the distance in this gruelling art form.

Today, she had broken that promise and betrayed not only herself but one of her students, even if that student was her ex-best friend’s son.

Yuri sipped on his water silently for a few minutes before his body suddenly disagreed with him once more; the teen’s whole body convulsed and Lilia was quick enough to shove a small empty trash can into the boy’s hands as the water he was sipping on came back up violently.  The young skater retched uncontrollably several more times but nothing came up; it was purely dry heaving.

“You haven’t eaten today,” Lilia stated, watching as her new student tried to regain control of his body.

 “You said I had fat thighs,” Yuri mumbled coarsely between bouts of dry heaving, sarcasm heavy in his tone, “Didn’t think eating was going to help that.”

“I said you needed to tone your thighs,” Lilia corrected, although her guilt increased tenfold because it had been a lie.

“Same difference,” was the bitter response.

Lilia didn’t respond, mostly because she didn’t know how. She checked her watch and realised it was 7:30 and she was supposed to be dropping Yuri at Yakov’s by now. Sighing, Lilia stood and walked across the room; the only sounds now were the click-clack of her heels against the hard floor and Yuri’s empty heaves which were starting to die out as his body finally processed that there was no food in his stomach to regurgitate. Lilia packed up her stuff and then turned to Yuri’s, pulling out his sneakers and his blue team Russia jacket. She also pulled out a warm pair of track pants that he could wear over his dance tights until Lilia dropped him home to Yakov.

“What did she do to you?” Yuri’s weak voice breaks the silence, “My mother, I mean.”

Lilia sighed; she supposed she should have expected that question coming. It felt a little ridiculous now – a stupid school-girl falling out that had turned into a decades-long vendetta between them, a feud that she had just taken out on an innocent fifteen year old well over thirty years later.

Still, she owed her student an answer.

“Valentina and I were best friends throughout primary school and senior school,” Lilia began, turning back to Yuri and bringing his warm clothes with her, “We both loved ballet and when we were thirteen, there was an opportunity for us to audition for a scholarship to the National Academy of Dance, except that only one of us would be accepted. My family didn’t have much money so I was desperate to go, but Valentina and I promised each other not to audition because we didn’t want to ruin our friendship... Well, we both auditioned behind each other’s backs and I… I won the scholarship.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow, “Valentina wouldn’t have liked that.”

“She certainly did not,” Lilia grimaced, frowning a little at the fact Yuri had just called his mother by her first name, “She stormed into school the next day, ripped my hair and told me she hated me over and over again. Everyone laughed when I started crying, and even more when I tripped over and all the boys saw my knickers.”

“Knickers?” Yuri repeated the old fashioned work, a sly smirk tugging at his lips.

Suddenly it all seemed pathetic and funny, and when Yuri began to laugh, Lilia couldn’t help but smile. Mostly, she was just glad that the boy could laugh after everything she had put him through that evening and over the last few weeks.

“It was the worst day of my life,” Lilia complained half-heartedly as Yuri laughed harder, “All my friends took her side and nobody sat with me in class or lunch for the rest of the year. I was very glad to be leaving for the academy after that.”

Of course, there was much more to the story than simply that. The incident at school had just been the first of their very many blow ups – the feud had been going since Lilia and Valentina were thirteen and hadn’t stopped there. For years and years, Valentina had been trying to get back at her and Lilia had fought back just as hard. On more than one occasion, their fights had been in public and the next day had headlined several of the celebrity gossip magazines. Lilia decided not to share with Yuri the extent of the history she had with his mother; it wouldn’t be appropriate for her to tell him his mother once gave her a black eye when they crossed paths in a nightclub in their early 20s, or that Lilia had retaliated by tearing Valentina’s designer shirt wide open, and especially not the time Valentina had tried to kiss Yakov while he was still married to Lilia.

No, Yuri definitely did not need to hear about that one.

Eventually, Yuri’s laughs subsided before he turned suddenly thoughtful. Lilia used the time and silence to help him into his jacket and track pants. She tied up his laces and helped him onto his feet. After the way his body gave out on him, she knew she’d have to support his weight all the way to the car, but luckily he was light and she had decades’ worth of ballet strength to assist her.

It took some time, but eventually she and Yuri were settled into the car, bags in the back and seatbelts clicked in. As she glanced over at the boy in her passenger seat, Yuri was looking idly out the window.

“I’m very sorry, Yuri,” she murmured, “It had been unprofessional and unfair of me to take my anger out on you. My relationship with your mother is not your issue, please forgive me.”

“It's fine,” Yuri mumbled tiredly and leant his head against the window, “You’re not the first person to hate me because of my mother.”

“I don’t hate you-,” Lilia answered automatically before pausing, mulling over the teen’s words, “What do you mean I’m not the first?”

“Like I said,” Yuri shrugged half-heartedly, “Russia has two types of people. Valentina turns almost everyone she meets against her eventually.”

Lilia frowned, wondering just how many people fell into that category and just how many of them Yuri had suffered at the hands of if Lilia wasn’t the only one.

“I’m sorry she did that to you,” Yuri continued, adjusting his position in the front seat until he looked just about ready to fall asleep, “But if it helps, she told me she hated me when I was thirteen too.”

Lilia almost didn’t catch the last part as Yuri’s voice softened to a whisper, but she did.

 

 

Lilia hung up the phone and looked on at the slumbering teenager in her passenger seat. It was a half hours drive to Yakov’s apartment from the rink so it was unsurprising the completely exhausted boy had fallen asleep. She had called Yakov to come down to her car to carry his student back up to his apartment; Lilia didn’t think she could carry Yuri and his bag at dead weight and last she’d heard, Yakov’s building didn’t have a working elevator. She could have just woken him up, she supposed, but after everything she had put him through, she didn’t think it fair to make him walk up three flights of stairs… Well, she also wasn’t sure his body would let him walk up three flights of stairs after that ordeal.

Yakov was going to be furious with her when she explained why she was almost an hour late and his student is passed out in her car. _Oh well,_ she certainly did deserve the ear lashing that was sure to come her way.

Reflecting back on the evening, Lilia realised she had learnt a number of things that night;

Firstly, Yuri Plisetsky was _not_ his mother – looks aside. He was determined, passionate and dare she use Yakov’s words to say that the boy was even _sweet._ Yuri was strong and he was _‘strength’ –_ Lilia now had inspiration for the teen’s free skate and would work tirelessly for the rest of the night to produce some solid choreography.

Secondly, Yakov lived too far from the rink and his building was inadequate. The distance was unfair on Yuri who had had an incredibly long day of training and school. Lilia decided that she would suggest they both move into her place for the remainder of the skating season, although she’d be making it clear to Yakov that this did not mean they were getting back together.

Finally, Lilia Baranovskaya was no longer ‘first and foremost a ballerina’, but was now first and foremost a coach. She would help and mentor Yuri to become the best skater and dancer he could be, and she would teach him how to properly look after his body. She would even become the mother figure he deserved if that’s what it would take.

After all, Yuri Plisetsky was very much his own person. He was not _her_ son.

**Author's Note:**

> I intend for this story to become a series of oneshots about the developing mother/son relationship between Lilia and Yuri, but I am waiting to see if that's what the readers would be interested so let me know if you'd like more of this find of fic.
> 
> Tumblr:  
> geeblr - YOI blog  
> geishaaa - bleach and other fandoms + miscellaneous
> 
> Thanks for reading,  
> Gee xoxo


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